


Slideshow

by empty_battlefield



Series: A Slice of Sadstuck [7]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: (Almost), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Class Differences, Death, Fluff and Angst, Hemospectrum, Hopeful Ending, Humanstuck, Not Sadstuck, Other, POV Eridan Ampora, Poor Karkat, Sadstuck, Slideshow, Wakes & Funerals, highblood, kankri dies before the story starts i'm sorry!, mutant blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_battlefield/pseuds/empty_battlefield
Summary: At four sweeps old, Eridan had been taught tirelessly by Dad and Cro that "behaving like a highblood" meant that Amporas were up here, Vantases were down there.Plain and simple.What isn't plain or simple is an odd request from his father--attending a wake for a deceased mutant.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Eridan & Karkat = 8 yo  
> Cronus & Kankri = 16 yo
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: Slideshow is not in any way a sequel to "A Day Off At the Vantas House." They are separate stories, although they have similar settings.

It was Christmas break. Eridan stiffly sat by himself on the lavish leather couch in the living room, playing a video game on the big screen.

"Can you pause that a moment, Eridan?"

Eridan reluctantly obeyed his father, still holding a grudge from ten minutes ago when both his dad and sixteen year old brother, Cronus, had refused to multiplayer with him.

"Wwhat."

Dualscar somberly sat beside his child on the couch. The movement was rather mechanical. He looked his son with a shadow in his violet eyes. 

"I have something to tell you. I just got a call from Porrim Maryam. Do you happen to know the younger Vantas in your grade? Karkat?"

"Yeah," Eridan said flatly. He didn't much care for the boy. 

"Well, his older brother, Kankri, apparently has been sick for a while now—and he passed away two nights ago."

Eridan froze. At four and a half sweeps old, he didn't know how to deal with death yet, and he had never had to before. Highbloods were notoriously healthy and lived long, extended lifespans. It made sense though—the Vantases far from being highbloods—everyone knew _that_.

"The wake is this Friday, and we will be attending," Eridan's father concluded.

Dualscar got up from the couch, and just as he was about to leave, Eridan said in a low voice, "But—it's Christmas break."

Those words made Dualscar stop in his tracks. "What was that?"

"Daddy—it's Christmas break. It's when you're not supposed to have to do anythin," Eridan said plainly.

Dualscar gave his son a serious glare. "I do not want to hear that coming out of your mouth. Ever," he said sternly. His tone struck fear in Eridan. His dad had never scolded him for anything more than being a pest. "That family lost a brother, a son, on Christmas Eve. You think _they_ want to be spending Christmas break in a funeral home? I expect you to behave with a little more sympathy. Like a highblood."

His father's polished shoes clipped and clopped away.

Eridan was left feeling very confused. He had been taught tirelessly by his father and other members of the upper class that "behaving like a highblood" meant acting better than the lower ranks of the hemospectrum. And attending a wake for a deceased mutant didn't seem to fit the bill. 

Eridan's thoughts muddled some more as he pulled out the mental file labeled "Kankri Vantas" from the back of his eight year old brain. The teen was no stranger to Eridan. Cronus spoke of the boy often, and it was always badly. Although Eridan rarely met him, Cronus had painted a crystal picture. Kankri was an inhumane, insufferable, self-centered prick who had no respect for Cronus or anybody. Those were Cro’s words, not his. Eridan remembered that Kankri helped him with his spelling homework once when he was in the third grade, but Cronus told his little brother that it was all part of Kankri's facade. 

Karkat was another eight year old in his class, a boy that Eridan had learned not to like very much. And Karkat didn't like Eridan very much, either. When they met in first grade, the boy was outspoken and often foul-mouthed—he hurled all his best insults at Eridan. And Eridan was quick to retaliate. When Eridan told his older brother that he slung a clever insult Karkat's way, or poked fun at the fact that Karkat had to take the bus because he didn't have someone like Cronus to pick him up—it put a smile on Cronus' face. So Eridan made sure he always came home with armfuls of stories to tell. 

And now they were attending a wake for a Vantas. 

And nothing made sense. 

Dressed smartly in suits, the three Amporas stepped out of their polished car in the parking lot of the Megido Funeral Home. Eridan clutched at his arms in the cold and slight drizzle. Little droplets clouded the lenses of his glasses as he studied the cars in the lot. Walking in, he could easily identify the Peixes' shiny Volvo and the Captors' used Subaru four wheel drive with the dent in the rear.

Eridan followed his father and brother as they entered the spacious, quietly furnished room. He recognized many of his classmates, and people that must have been their parents. Father sought out Mr. Vantas and went to speak with him and hand him a prepared sympathy card—which Eridan knew hosted a generous check inside. 

"I'm sorry for your loss," Eridan said to the man quietly, as his Dad had told him to do. 

"Oh, thank you, young’un," Mr. Vantas said, smiling tightly as he mussed Eridan's hair.

"Could I have a tissue?" Eridan asked to no one in particular.

"Of course," Mr. Vantas said, pulling one out of his pocket and handing it to the boy. 

And with it Eridan wiped off the rain droplets from his glasses.

Eridan learned a new word that day. Leukemia—the disease he was told Kankri died from. He had never heard about it before. "A cancer of the blood," Cronus told him it was as they approached the open casket to say a prayer. Cro knelt down and Eri did the same. Eridan closed his eyes. He tried to steal a peek at the dead body through eyes opened just a crack, and it made him feel dizzy to see a _dead person_. He shut them again. Kankri Vantas was sickly thin, and his skin was a very pale gray. His eyes remained shut until a faint whimpering sound startled him. He creaked open his right eye, and saw Cronus crying. In public. His brother gasped quietly as he stifled sobs. 

"Hey Eri, you think I can borrow that tissue you've got there?"

Eridan meekly handed it over to him. Cronus wiped purple streaks streaming down his cheeks before they stain the white fabric of the kneeler. Cronus pocketed it, stood up, and Eridan followed. He watched as Cronus ran his finger over Kankri's deadened, gray hand and lifted it to his lips to kiss. Eridan's eyes widened in shock. 

His brother just _cried._ And kissed a _dead body._ Is that what you do to someone you hate?

And he is more baffled than ever. 

A comforting hand weighed on Cronus' shoulder, and it was Mr. Vantas. Eridan had heard through people's conversations of the man’s nickname—"The Sufferer," darkly coined after Mr. Vantas lost his wife, his mother, and now his first born child. 

Cronus and Mr. Vantas stirred up a conversation again, and Eridan quickly became bored with all the adult talk. He wandered over to a computer screen that was brightly displaying a slideshow of pictures from when Kankri was alive. Almost too many of them were taken from bright, white, hospital rooms. Eridan sat down to watch them cycle through. He began to make out voices from a conversation from behind him—

"We're so sorry for your loss. Your brother was an amazing kid," a female voice said gently. 

Another female voice said solemnly, "I heard it wasn't exactly expected, huh?"

"No," replied a familiar young boy's raspy voice. "He was doing great one week, and not the next."

"We're very sorry," one of them repeated again. 

"Thank you," said the boy, almost shyly. 

Eridan turned around. Sure enough, the boy was Karkat and the two women had walked away. Karkat stared at the slideshow, his round face stained by ruddy tears illuminated by the bright memories flashing by on the screen. 

"Hi, Kar."

"Hi, Eridan."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Yeah. Thanks."

Eridan was used to seeing him shout and yell across the room in class. It was strange to only hear his gruff voice arise in curtailed phrases. 

"I like your suit," Eridan offered quietly. "It's very nice."

It wasn't the best suit he'd ever laid eyes on, but it was the nicest he had ever seen Karkat dress. Karkat never cared much for clothing, coming to school in a sweater and jeans every day. But today his slight figure was dressed in a tailored black suit. His gray tie was pulled loose around his neck, as if Karkat was afraid it might choke him. "Thanks," he mumbled. "The ladies from Maryam's let us rent it from their shop."

"Oh," Eridan said softly, feeling bad that Karkat's family couldn't have just bought it for him. "It looks nice."

Karkat's mouth twitched, but he said nothing. He continued to watch as Kankri's life repeated itself over and over on the screen—standing, unmoving. 

Eridan stifled a laugh in the silence when looking at a picture on the screen—a smiling Kankri sitting on the couch in the Vantas living room with Karkat photo-bombing the background, a ridiculous grin spread across his face. 

"Sorry. It's just that one was funny."

"Yeah. It was sixth perigee's eve two sweeps ago."

Eridan realized he hadn't made space for him on the bench he was sitting on. Karkat took a seat.

Karkat kept pointing out pictures, calling out the time and date and place to every other one. Eridan intently listened to his husky voice, allowing him to be as verbal as he usually is. A smile upturned Eridan's lips, and he had long since forgotten about being confused.

The two boys watched the slideshow cycle three times through.

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments or thoughts about this story are greatly appreciated!


End file.
